


You, Me And A Stalled Engine

by stanchezsloppyseconds



Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: Food, M/M, Swearing, criminal activity and questionable moral, mild violence, sex mention, there is one disembodied monster limb floating around in space in the near vicinity of the ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 04:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9700091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stanchezsloppyseconds/pseuds/stanchezsloppyseconds
Summary: The first rule of space travel, kids, is always check out distress beacons. 9 out of 10 times, it’s a ship full of dead aliens and a bunch of free shit!” The other time, it’s a trap… set by two old men broken down on the intergalactic highway waiting for some chump to come so they can knock em out and siphon their rocket fuel. All in all, Stan’s adventures with Rick really hadn’t changed all that much since being stuck on the side of a Nevada desert road back in the 80’s. (My fanfic from the stanchez-bang 2016)





	

The k-952 Spornaxian system sat peacefully nestled between two equally desolate quadrants in a patch of lifeless dead space that stretched further than a B'quakkish sputtinball field.  It had been, at some point in time, a rather popular intergalactic travel way, but had remained mostly empty since long before the galactic rebellion. A sharp tear of vibrant chartreuse appeared as a small space craft, if one could call the heap of scrap metal held together with industrial duct tape an actual space craft, came screaming through the unstable hole in reality. Something else started to reach through, but was abruptly dismembered as the gateway shut on its massive tentacle limb. The spaceship sputtered along until it came to an abrupt skidding halt. Sound doesn’t carry through space, but the volume of the torrent of alien curses coming from the man inside the ship was clearly daring it to try and silence him.

“Why did we stop?” Stan asked as Rick finally relented in his tantrum of swearing like a space sailor and kicking the dashboard of the ship.

“Th-that son of a glipglop musta dam-damaged the engine. The microverse battery isn’t r-reading. After that last hop, it-it’ll be couple hours before the portal gun has enough juice to get us anywhere, aan-and we’re at least fifty parsecs from the next fuel stop asteroid.”

“I take it that’s too far to toss on a spacesuit and walk?” Stan asked as he warily watched the disembodied tentacle float past the ship window. Now that he got a closer look at the limb’s serrated suckers the size of dinner plates, he was extra thankful that they’d narrowly escaped that eldritch nightmare of a dimension.

“You’re welcome to go ahead, Stanley. Y-you can feel free to die of ol-old age trying t-to to jet pack your way there and back for some measly second rate rocket fuel.” Rick grumbled as he flicked a switch on the dash that made a small red light on the console board flash. “Or you can w-wait here with me for some-someone to either answer that distress beacon or my portal gun to re-euuurp-recharge.”

“Kinda reminds ya of that one time we broke down on the way through Nevada back in 76, huh?” Stan said chuckling as he reclined his seat back. “We used to wait for the next sucker who’d pull over to help jump start the car so we could knock em out and siphon their gas.”

“Y-yeah” Rick let a rare soft and genuine sort of smile cross his lips as he glanced over at his old partner in crime. He’d never been much of one to reminisce on the past, but these days he was thankful for each shared memory Stan could recall. There were few people in this reality or the next he could stand. Among those few, Stanley Pines was the one man who’d been a clever enough con artist to swindle Rick’s heart. “We’ve got some time to kill, Lee, and I-I seem to recall doing more than ju-just stealing gas while stalled in Nevada?”

“No one will rescue us if they show up to the sight of me balls deep in your ass” Stan said shaking his head with a weary grin as he swatted Rick’s hand away from the buttons of his floral printed shirt. Leave it to Rick to be feeling randy after just escaping a nearly untimely death.

“Fine if you’re so shy I ca-I can ff-fuck your ass instead-” Rick grunted reaching for his belt.

“Save it for when we get home, hot stuff.” Stan scoffed not budging on the matter, “Besides if the feds pick up that distress beacon, we don’t want to get arrested with our pants down… again.”

“What do you purpose we do for the next cup-couple hours then?” Rick asked with a huff.

For a moment Stan looked lost in thought before he crawled over his seat to rummage through the back of the ship. A small hiss of frustration came from the driver seat as Rick idly watched Stan’s butt.

“You teeease”

“Do I even want to know how old the box of chicken wings back here is?” Stan asked as he dug through the littered back seat. The small take out box of rotten food was covered in alien writing and he wasn’t certain that the content had ever been chicken to begin with, but that was the closest earth food he could relate it to.

“Eeeh- prob-probably not.” Rick said, “Don’t eat any. La-last thing I need to deal with stranded in space is you puking your guts out from food poisoning.”

“Leaving ‘em where I found ‘em. Covered in purple mold. They’re all your’s, darling.” Stan said as he finally spotted the yellow lacquered wooden neck he’d been searching for. Pulling the ukulele out of the mess of the backseat Stan held it close to his better ear and gave it a test strum.

“I swore I’d gotten rid of that thing” Rick groaned as Stan settled back into his seat, tuning the instrument.

“Got any requests?” Stan asked as he strummed out 'my dog has flees.’

“Silence is b-better than anything in your rr-repertoire of sappy love ballads.” Rick said bitterly. He’d folded his arms and sunk down into his seat like a pouting child. Chuckling softly to himself, Stan paid his partner’s sour tone no mind as he started playing an old Elvis tune he personally favoured.

“When we kiss my heart’s on fire” Stan crooned in a grizzly attempt at an imitation of the king that came out more Waits than Presley. “Burning with a strange desiiiire-”

“You wouldn’t fuck me b-but you are fine with this embarrassment of a display?” Rick grumbled, his body language tensing tighter into a ball as he avoided making eye contact.

“And I know, each time I kiss you,” Stan sang huskily under his breath as he leaned in close so Rick could hear him, “that your heart’s on fire too”

A subtle flush crept to the surface of Rick’s cheek’s as Stan grinned cheekily at his triumph. Making Rick Sanchez, the nearly impossible to faze super genius, blush was a very rare skill, and thus one Stanley Pines prided himself upon. Traditional shows of affection were rare between them, so it was the little things like this that let him know he had Rick wrapped around his finger tighter than the gold wedding bands that they wore.

“If y-you don’t stop-”

“So, my darling, please surrender all your love so warm and tender”

“I am go-going to eject that thing out into a black hole.” Rick sputtered as he turned an even brighter shade of red.

“Let me hold you in my arms, dear while the moon shines bright above”

“That’s it, Stanley, ha-hand it over!” Rick lunged at Stan, his hands clambering to grab at the ukulele which let out a very sour chord as Stan maneuvered to try and keep it out of his long armed reach while still playing.

“All the stars will tell the story- ow hey! Watch the elbows! Of our love and all its glooory- ack! Rick! Don’t!”

The ship fell awkwardly silent as the ukulele floated by quietly outside, bumping casually into the nearby disembodied tentacle. Shuffling uncomfortably, Rick rubbed at an ache in his elbow and glanced at Stan who was now sitting turned away from him, arms crossed tight over his broad chest as a heavy frown weighed on his lips. It was no secrete Stanley was fond of that ukulele, but honestly he’d been warned to stop and it wasn’t like they could always get another. He didn’t have to look so hurt over some silly little painted piece of wood and plastic. Rick didn’t have to feel guilty about tossing it out the ejection hatch either… but he did. Damn Pines and his ability to so effortlessly pull Rick right back into a muddle of human emotion.

“I’m nnna-not apologizing.” Rick stated firmly with a tight nod for punctuation. Stan didn’t budge but his hazel brown eyes peered over at his husband and one look at the other man’s knotted up guilt ridden posture put a small grin on his lips.

“Course you aren’t” Stan shrugged, still feigning a slight air of indignation.

“Good. Glad we’re both cl-clear on the fact this is not an apology.” Rick said before hitting a button that made a mechanical arm extend from the ship to grab the ukulele and pull it back inside. It was covered in gelatinous ooze from the tentacle it had been getting to know better outside the ship, but with a wash would be playable again.

“Not. An. A–aaapology.” Rick said firmly as Stan beamed at him. It was the bright genuine sort of grin Stan got when his salesman smile had hung up its coat and called it a day and he let his real happiness shine through. That smile was more contagious than a common galactic cold and Rick found himself ensnared in it for a moment before he lightly punched Stan’s shoulder. “Quit looking like you- you won a damn lottery, Lee, it’s just a ff-fifteen dollar ukulele.”

“I didn’t win the ukulele.” Stan shrugged, “I won when I got you.”

“Ug gross.” Rick groaned wiping his hand on his bleached white labcoat, “I don’t know wh-what’s worse. Your lovey dovey sentimental crap sst-stinking up this ship or the fact I got some of that eldritch slim on me.”

“You’re own damn fault for waking up that slimy monstrosity from its thousand year hibernation with all that noise you were making.” Stan said as Rick tossed the ukulele back into the pile of rubbish cluttering the rear seat of the ship.

“Me? Y-you’re the one who decided to touch things when I explicitly said n-not to!” Rick growled as Stan pulled a walnut sized gem from his shirt pocket and let it roll between his fingers before tucking it back away.

“Once we get back to civilization you’ll be happy for my sticky fingers. The flurbos that gem will get me are gonna buy us an extra few days at the resort on Zarnon X-delta93 next vacation.”

“You’re just l-lucky I got you out of there before you were m-monster chow.” Rick said rolling his eyes. He wouldn’t admit to it but Stan was right. Besides, the distraction of Stan stealing that jewel had given Rick the opportunity he needed to steal what they’d been there for in the first place. Cthulhian eggs were hard to come by on the black market, since most who tried to steal them didn’t make it out alive. They were also highly illegal to possess in at least two thirds of the multiverse for a multitude of reasons, the main of which being an angry mother would rampage an entire dimension if her brood was disturbed. No one in their right mind would invoke that wrath without some way to hop dimensions.

The radio crackled to life for a moment just before a lumbering cube ship materialized in front of them like a steel mountain. Stan whistled as he glanced up at the ship trying to see where the top ended. It was certainly a dreary looking sight to behold. He’d been in prisons with more cheerful architecture than this metal slab.

“This is Beta7 hailing the ship of Rick Sanchez. We have been advised to assist you should you be in actual need of assisting and not just setting a trap.” A monotonous voice droned over the com system.

“Oh great” Rick groaned bitterly before snatching the radio receiver and shouting back into it “If Unity wants to check if I’m alright tell them they can do it them fucking selves!”

“You appear to be of fine enough health to be as crass as usual-”

“You- you really think your cozy little peace treaty is gon-gonna get you some places, huh? You’re nothing but a- a sh-shoulder to cry on while Une figures out what they really want.” Rick paused to non-surreptitiously belch, “Which the obvious answer to that question is going to be my husband’s dick. And g-guess what, Beta7, I’m in a sharing mood!”

“Geezus, Rick!” Stan barked feigning anger as he choked back laughter.

“What? It’s true! If there’s an-anyone Unity would wanna fuck again more than me it’s you, Lee!” Rick cooed wickedly. He broke into a sly grin as he heard the small harrumph of annoyance come over the radio.

“Uh, who was Unity again?” While his memory was for the most part intact, Stan was having trouble recalling that name from the muddled trenches of his history with Rick.

“The Flesh Curtains groupies you always called ‘my cult’? They were aa-an alien hive mind.” Rick said with a dull disinterest.

“Oh. That would explain why they were so ahem- well coordinated.” Stan flushed slightly at the recollection.

“Are you finished yet?” Beta7 asked with a groan.

“Look this will all go a lot faster if you sst-stop being such a wet blanket and just let Unity know that they’re invited to li-lick my husband’s hairy ballsack.” The shade of red on Stan’s cheeks only encouraged Rick all the more. Payback’s a horny hivemind, darling.

“If you don’t desist in this childish behaviour-”

“Hey, who knows, maybe Unity will even be into let-letting you get in on the ball ll-li-licking action!”

It was possibly a new record for how fast Rick had chased off help with nothing but annoying antics and crude jokes about Stan’s dick.

  


* * *

  


“You know, if we die out here I’m never letting you hear the end of how you could have just shut your yap for a measly tow back to civilization.“ Stan said stifling his laughter.

It was less than fifteen minutes before another ship responded to the distress beacon. The small craft was built from spare garbage can lids and had duct tape holding the headlights on. Inside it sat a very amused Rick Sanchez and a rather anxious looking Morty.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, B-295.” Rick sneered through the intercom as his alternate self bent over with howling laughter.

“See M-Morty this is- this is why I don’t get involved with stupid human emotions like love.” B-295 scoffed, “You end up stranded in deadspace like this loser”

“Look are you gonna k-kickstart my engine or are you just here to make yourself look like a jel-jealous empty wrinkled old asshole?” Rick asked, instantly silencing his counterpart’s laughter. The fidgeting Morty in the passenger seat looked a bit surprised that such a simple insult seemed to have hit his Rick hard enough to leave him momentarily speechless.

“Alright, I’m bored.” B-295 said stoically after a heavy pause. “Let’s get outta here.”

“Geez Rick, sh-shouldn’t we help them out or something first?” Morty asked hesitantly.

“Their portal gun will recharged soon anyways.” The intercom clicked silent again before the other Rick’s ship took off, clipping the side of their craft as it passed.

“Don’t you dare say a word.” Rick groaned threateningly as he tossed himself back in his seat, clearly frustrated.

“Wasn’t going to.” Stan said shrugging it off. He hadn’t overly expected another Rick, particularly a single one, to be willing to help out. Ricks weren’t exactly well known for liking themselves. Even his husband would have likely done the same without some decent extra incentive.

* * *

  


By the time a small cargo ship passing by was in eye sight, Stan was snatching the radio away from Rick, insistent that this time he would handle the talking.

“Hello? Is this thing on? Oh dear, are you broken down all the way out here?” A voice asked over the com speaker, and Stan had to hold back a chuckle at how easy this was going to be.

“We sure are. Would you be so kind as to assist us in repairing our ship?” Stan asked in as sweet a tone as he could muster. Rick was silently gagging in mockery beside him. A wink and a few old hand signals were all it took to communicate the plan. Lure them somewhere safe to park then take them out and siphon their rocket fuel.

“Oh, of course! My partner and I will tow you to the nearest pit stop and help get your engine running!”

“Why that’s very generous of you.” Stan said with a victorious glance Rick’s way, “Is it just the two of you on board?”

“Just us two and the dog.” The voice replied sweetly.

Muting the intercom for a moment Stan gave Rick a curious glance.

“A dog?”

“It’s a-a common co-colloquial for a pet. It’s not likely to be the kind of dog you’re thinking” Rick explained with a shrug.

* * *

  


It took a while for them to find a suitable place to land, but eventually they were towed to a small asteroid stop with a tolerable artificial atmosphere. Tucking his raygun into his pocket, Rick hopped out of the ship took a deep breath of the stale recycled air, and tried not to cringe too hard when their help hopped out of their ship. The couple were a pair of small six limbed insectoid creatures, likely a sub species of the gromflomites, that only came up to about mid chest height. A cream fuzz ball scampered out from behind them and instantly ran up to Stan, jumping up against his shins excitedly.

“Who’s a good pup? Yes you are!” Stan cooed as he bent down to scratch the small pug behind the ears.

“Well what’d ya know. It-it was a real dog.” Rick said as the small animal licked at Stan’s face. He supposed it was likely that some Earth animals had been sold to intergalactic buyers during the federation’s control of the planet, and the occasional pet abduction was always bound to happen.

“So what brings you two this far out in these parts? Not many use this route these days.” The alien who had talked over the intercom greeted. Stan could only assume she was expressing the equivalent of a smile. It was hard to tell with mandibles.  

“Oh, you know how it is, just took a wrong turn at the last solar system!” Stan said with a light chuckle as he kept petting the enthusiastic slobbering dog. He didn’t overly mind. He was used to getting drooled on.

“You got a nice spacecraft- th-those Spornaxian ion fractal converters?” Rick asked as he stepped behind the aliens to get a closer look at their ship. A quick scan told him exactly what parts he’d need to scavenge to repair his own ship. It wouldn’t take long for him to re-rig a temporary engine maybe even toss in some extra thrusters to give the old girl a bit of extra kick. He’d turned around, ready to take the aliens out with his raygun on stun, when Stan let out a yelp.

“Wouldn’t do that if I was you” the pug growled as it held the small blaster in its paws up to Stan’s side. “Drop your weapon or hubby here gets it”

“Crap” Rick muttered as the alien he’d been about to shoot also pointed a gun at him. With a frustrated sigh, Rick tossed his raygun to the ground. The nearest alien kicked it away from him and their partner scooped it up and tucked it in their belt.

Pinned roughly against the hood of their own spaceship by a surprisingly very strong for her size bug lady, Stan and Rick watched as the talking pug and the second insect riffled through their stuff. The ukulele twanged as it was tossed out of the ship in disgust over the slime covering it. As the pug pawed his way through the contents of the glove compartment, a bell that sounded like a toaster oven going off rang. Biting the alien holding him, Rick made a sudden scramble out of their grasp in attempt to snatch his recharged portal gun from where it sat on the driver’s seat. Before he could get to it though, the pug had grabbed it up in his mouth.

“What the hell is this piece of junk?” The dog laughed as he spat the gun out and examined the device, sniffing at it curiously.

“Oh that? Ju-just some ol fools attempt t-to make the next best thing since the plumbus. It’s a faulty piece of junk. Better off not tampering with it and just giving it back to me before it ex-explodes.” Rick said with an impartial shrug as if it wasn’t their best chance of escape currently being held in the wrong hands.

“Yeah right, I think we’ll be holding onto this.” The pug barked before continuing to rummage through the ship.

“Load of crap back here, but you’ll never guess what they got stashed in the trunk!” The insect exclaimed as they held up two of the cthulhian eggs.

“Are those what I think they are? Ho-ho boys! You must have gone to a lot of trouble to get your hands on a score like that! Load it all up girls! The collector may pay a nice price for their primitive earth tech too. He likes worthless relics like that.” The pug paused a moment before pointing his gun at Stan “and I’ll be taking that shirt.”

“What?” Stan gawked as he glanced down at the vibrant Hawaiian print he was wearing. It wasn’t exactly the dog’s size.

“You heard me. Take it off or I blow smart mouth’s pretty brains out.” The gun shifted to point at Rick’s head.

“Yesh, take it. It’s not really my colour anyways” Stan grumbled as he tossed the shirt to the dog’s paws.

“Don’t think I didn’t see you palming that gem- pass that over too” The pug sneered as Stan bit back a grumble of a curse and tossed the jewel he’d snuck out of his shirt pocket to the talking canine.

  


* * *

  


Ignoring Rick’s constant complaints, the two insects made quick work of dismantling and packing away most of the ship as the dog made sure to keep a gun on them till there was nothing but a pile of worthless scrap and a ukulele left behind.

“All packed up and ready to go boss!”

“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you boys.” The dog called out as the cargo ship took off with most of their belongings, leaving behind a very disgruntled pair of robbed old con men.

“Whelp, that could have gone better” Stan sighed as he absently debated if this was some sort of cosmic karma catching up with them.

“I can’t believe they even t-took the chicken wings!” Rick yelled as he frustratingly kicked at a rock, sending it flying nearly out of the tiny asteroid’s orbit in the low gravity.

“Wait- they took the ship and the portal gun and you’re worried about moldy space chicken?” Stan’s teeth chattered slightly as he raised his voice. He was shivering slightly without his shirt.

Rick merely shrugged and pointed to the shrinking speck of the leaving alien space ship. A long beat passed, and Stan was about to ask what the hell he was supposed to be looking at, when the ship blinked out of existence and was replaced by a large explosion of lime green temporal rift energy.

“Told them naa-not to tamper with the portal gun” Rick said as he turned away from the explosion with an irritated frown “annnd with the rrr-right dipping sauce and those wings would have been edible.”

“Right then” Stan fidgeted with his hearing aid a moment till the small intergalactic blue tooth got a signal. “I’m calling Ford to come pick us up.”

“Tell him to be qua-quick about it.” Rick groaned, not looking forward to the rant they’d likely get for being reckless enough to be late for dinner. “Therrr-there’s a chance they got zapped to another dimension, but those Cthulhian eggs likely hatched when that explosion went off, and we don’t want to be here long with nothing b-but a ukulele to fight them off with.”

   


End


End file.
